


And I'll mirror images back at you, so you can see the way I feel it too

by merrythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: #StuckySecretSanta2016, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blind Date, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, Smut, Starbucks, Sweet, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrythoughts/pseuds/merrythoughts
Summary: “And it's, ‘any bad intentions’ not, ‘no bad intentions.’”“Are you really going to correct my English on our first date, Steve?”“Yes, Bucky, I am.”Bucky smiles. Steve is a little shit and it's honestly kind of endearing.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blessyourdoubts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blessyourdoubts/gifts).



> For [citylightslikerain](http://citylightslikerain.tumblr.com/) for the [Stucky Secret Santa 2016](http://stuckysecretsanta2016.tumblr.com/) event ♥ Hope you like it & have a great Christmas/holiday! =)  
> As I work as a Starbucks barista, I thought it was about time that a fic I wrote had a character that was one too and who could vent my opinions through. I apologize for nothing.

>   
>  _I find shelter, in this way_  
>  _Under cover, hide away_  
>  _Can you hear, when I say?_  
>  _I have never felt this way_  
>  (Shelter - The xx)

When a scrawny blonde kid plops down across from him at his table, Bucky is a little confused. The stranger huffs a little dramatically, pulling his way-too-big-for-him stuffed messenger bag into the booth with him. He regards Bucky with a serious look and before the brunet can even get a word in, the blonde is opening his mouth and launching into some (probably) rehearsed speech:

“Okay, I'm Steve and I don't really do this - blind dates, I mean, but Nat vouched for you, so here I am giving you a chance anyway. I’m expecting you to not be impressed by me and bow out or stay out of pity and make this super awkward, so if that's where you're at, just go ahead and leave and we can not waste each other's time.”

Bucky blinks and then rotates his lip ring with his tongue before breaking out into a grin. “Nah, I'm game, not goin’ anywhere and I'm pretty sure we can manage to get along just fine.”

Bucky's interested in seeing how this plays out.

The blonde -- _Steve_ \-- stares back at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping a bit. Clearly he wasn't expecting that response and now he doesn't know what to say. Guy’s adorable, comes in guns blazing and a little surprise kindness knocks him for a loop.

“Alright then,” Steve says simply, lips curling up in a slight hesitant smile and he seems to relax a bit. It's a pretty nice smile, Bucky has to admit. He watches bony hands come up to the table top and reach for a menu that, when opened, pretty much hides Steve from his view.

Bucky hums and flips through the menu idly even though he already knows what he’ll get.

“I assume you're a student or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Second year Education program.”

Cute. A teacher in training. A do-gooder too, probably.

“What about you? Natasha didn't mention exactly what you do… Ah, what's your name again?” Steve lowered the menu and Bucky met those devastatingly blue eyes and yeah, the guy is kinda cute in an earnest preppy kinda way.  He’s dressed in a black and grey striped v-neck sweater that clings to his small frame and what Bucky thought had been chinos.

“James, but I go by Bucky and I'm a, wait for it….” He pauses for emphasis and even drops his menu to do a drum roll on top of it with his fingertips. “Bucky the barista. You heard it here first folks.”

Steve blinks at him. Then snorts. “How the hell do you get ‘Bucky’ from James? Why not Jim or Jimmy? Granted, Jim the Barista doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”

“Middle name’s Buchanan. Family name,” Bucky answers with a shrug. “I guarantee you don’t know any Bucky’s other than me now.”

“You’re not mistaken,” Steve concedes.

“Are you a Steve, or a Steven?”

A slight annoyed look crosses his face as thin fingers are brushing away floppy blonde hair away from his eyes. “What did I introduce myself as?”

“A ‘Steve,’” Bucky smiles all friendly like, teeth and all. He paid attention, he just likes finding out what irks people. Turns out ‘Steven’ may irk this Steve.

Steve nods, “That’s correct.”

“Was just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

Bucky gasps, exaggerated and eyes wide. “That’s a horrible thing to say! I’ll have you know I have a cat.”

The waitress comes and their conversation is interrupted as she takes their order. Steve apparently is going all out American with a bacon cheeseburger, fries and a chocolate milkshake. Bucky orders a Shepherd's pie, coffee and a water.

“I figured you for more of a vanilla type of guy,” Bucky says nonchalantly, hoping to pull off an innocent expression to go along with it.

Steve rolls his eyes, not quite convinced. “Hah, I like vanilla just fine, nothing wrong with liking them both… So, do you actually have a cat?”

“Yep, in fact I do, her name is Elsa. Not my choice, my sister named her, alright. Here, lemme show you a pic.” Not waiting for a response, Bucky reaches down into the pocket of his leather jacket to fish out his cellphone. A few moments and finger flicks later, the device is being slid across the diner’s table. On the screen is a picture of a rather large calico cat wearing a black knit sweater and Steve bursts out laughing.

“She does _not_ look pleased to be wearing that, man!”

“Really? I think it was growing on her,” Bucky replies, amusement evident in his features. “It was a Christmas present last year.”

“Uh huh,” Steve took a second look. “What are you feeding her? A vat of cream every day? She looks kinda fa--”

“Big boned? Full bodied? Voluptuous? Everything a happy domestic cat should be? Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Bucky interrupts and snatches the phone away, dropping it back in his pocket. “It’s not nice to judge people.”

Steve bristles, a displeased frown on his face and Bucky kinda feels like a jerk because obviously someone like Steve gets judged a hell of a lot more than his fat cat Elsa. While Bucky gets a few raised eyebrows and disapproving glances because of _his_ appearance, _his_ appearance is all of his own choice - long shaggy brunette hair that almost reaches his shoulders, the lip piercing, the tattoos. Steve on the other hand… the gene pool decided that he’d be short and small looking, not that Bucky minds. There is something sort of fiery or feisty about the lil guy anyhow.

“Sorry, that was stupid of me,” Bucky apologizes with a sincere look, refusing to back down from meeting those unhappy eyes across from him. “I wasn’t thinking. It’s one of my bad habits. Every once in awhile I have to prove that I really _am_ an idiotic 24-year-old male.”

That has Steve easing up, a small grin threatening to come out full force if he’d just _let it._ “Fair enough,” the blonde replies. “What are you the other times then?”

Bucky scoffs, “ _Obviously_ an amazing and incredible 24-year-old guy.” That rewards him with another eyeroll and chuckle from Steve. “Kidding. I’d say… I’m an alright guy. I visit my mom every week, I pay my bills on time, never been arrested, I like animals, I pick up extra shifts, I’m a great dancer, and I help old ladies cross the street when I see them. I may be exaggerating on the last point. Most old ladies get scared away from the lip piercing and long hair.”

“Okay, okay, I get the point.”

A vibrating sound has Steve saying turning to his messenger bag and retrieving his phone. Whatever he sees on the screen has a peculiar expression coming to his face. His brows crease and it's obvious that he's rereading the notification or message a few times over in disbelief. “You're not my date.”

“Nope.” Straight to the point and the shenanigans are over.

“What the… Is this some kind of prank, or bad joke?” Accusatory tone, eyes narrowing and hands clench as he waits for an explanation. He looks like he’s ready to bolt.

Bucky frowns, “Wha? No, no, I was intrigued by the case of the mistaken identity, but you seemed cool so I went with it. A blind date with a total stranger was better than eating here alone anyway.”

Steve listens, still on the defensive like he's waiting for an ambush or the other shoe to fall.

“Honest to God, I didn't have no bad intentions,” Bucky tries and crosses good heart for good measure.

Finally, Steve visibly calms down, small hands unclenching, eyebrows relaxing but, face still hesitant.“Alright, but you're still a fucking weirdo for doing it.”

“I won't fight ya on that.”

“And it's, ‘any bad intentions’ not, ‘no bad intentions.’”

“Are you really going to correct my English on our first date, Steve?”

“Yes, Bucky, I am.”

Bucky smiles. Steve is a little shit and it's honestly kind of endearing.

The waitress returns with their beverages and Bucky grabs four packages of sugar and goes to town on sweetening up his coffee to the acceptable level before he can consume it.  Steve sucks his milkshake out of a straw and immediately Bucky's mind is turning it sexual. Smooth Barnes, sexualise your stolen blind date.

“So, what happened to the real guy? I mean, obviously he was a putz since he's not here, but it's his loss.” Bucky grins and takes a sip of his coffee.

Steve chuckles, pulling off the straw. “Got held up at work or something. The friend that set it up just texted.”

“Well, it is that busy festive season of overpriced holiday beverages, bad driving and rushed shopping. Hey, you like any fancy espresso drinks?”

“Maybe.”

“Let me guess your drink? I've been told I'm scarily accurate at this.” It is a blatant lie, but today could be the day Bucky performed a Starbucks miracle.

“Impress me, barista boy.”

“Hmm…” Bucky looks Steve over. The blonde was studious, from correcting his English to lugging his books on a date, school was important to him so it had to be something with a good deal of caffeine… “You're like, a quad grande vanilla americano misto, right?”

“You give me too much credit. I get a venti cinnamon dolce latte with extra whip, extra sprinkles and two pumps of white mocha added.”

Bucky snorts, a little taken aback at being _so wrong._ “That sounds like a sugar apocalypse, where do you put away all those calories?”

“Who knows, it's a mystery,” Steve replies, grinning and going back to his milkshake. Bucky takes another drink of his coffee, and supposes that yes, four packages of sugar in his own drink is a lot of sweetness as well.

“Why'd ya do it?” Steve suddenly asks.

“Do what?”

“Stay.”

“You know, carpe diem! Seize the day, all that good bullshit,” Bucky says. It’s mostly true.

“Like from that one Robin Williams movie?”

“Yeah, exactly.  Dead Poet’s Society. Great movie, but we can skip standing on the tables.”

Steve laughs. “You were seriously going to eat here alone?”

“Yeah, I possess enough self-confidence that I’m not afraid to do such a thing. I work at the Starbucks ‘round the corner. Didn’t feel like cookin’ anything tonight,” Bucky explains. He’s also interested to see if maybe, just maybe, a certain blonde may stop in one day.

Their meals come and between bites they talk. Bucky learns more about Steve, that he's twenty, no brothers or sisters, likes to draw in his free time and that he hopes to become a History teacher when he's done school. Bucky in turn tells him that he has no idea what he wants to be when he grows up (“No, at twenty-four I'm not grown up”), that he's modeled a bit (“Hey don't laugh, it was easy money!”), that he's the oldest of two sisters (“Yes, I can in fact braid hair like a boss”) and he’s a big fan of Christopher Nolan’s work, his favourite movie being Inception (Steve thankfully has similar tastes).

Steve eats every last bite on his plate, which is a bit of a feat for such a tiny guy. Bucky has mostly been picking at his Shepherd's pie, more interested in listening to Steve and asking him questions.

“So.”

“Yes?” Steve says.

“Have I pass the ‘not a creep’ test, and can ask you for your number?” As far as first dates went, this one was fairly memorable. Bucky was definitely down for getting together again.

“You could ask…”

“Steve, may I have the pleasure of receiving your digits so that I can pursue you sometime in the near future?”

The blonde gives him a look. “Did you seriously use 'digits’?”

“That's not an answer.”

“Oh, it's an answer, just not the one you wanted,” Steve smirks.

Bucky rolls his eyes. This guy. “Yes, I happened to use the word 'digits’ in referring to your mobile number,” he replies, giving in.

They do exchange phone numbers and part ways. Bucky still feels like he wins in the end.

* * *

Bucky had a plan. He would text Steve the student in three days.  It was a little less than half a week. He couldn't be too eager, is the thing.

On the third day, he was working, staring and wondering why CHEG is so amusing to see written on a cup. Chai Eggnog Latte. He gets it, it's just so close to chug…

“One Grande Chai Eggnog Latte for Lisa… Enjoy and happy holidays! Stay warm!” He flashes his best customer service approved smile and reaches for the next cup.

And…  it's the sugar apocalypse Venti 2 pump White Mocha extra sprinkles and whipped cream Cinnamon Dolce Latte for “Steve,” of course.

Well then. Bucky automatically squirts the appropriate amount of syrup in and begins steaming milk. Peeking around the espresso machine, he scans the store for a short blonde. Steve is by the lids, his back turned to Bucky. He can see a red and white scarf and a rather puffy looking blue parka, along with the familiar crammed messenger bag.

He queues the espresso shots and turns to Sam who's at the register. “That's him, the last customer,” Bucky whispers.

“What? Who?” Sam asks.

‘The guy I met last week on the blind date that I crashed.”

“The shorty in the Where's Waldo scarf?”

Bucky snickers, he can’t help it - it’s an apt description. “Yeah. I'm going on break, kay?”

“Go get 'em, tiger,” Sam grins, chill and supportive as ever. He’s a great friend, he really is.

Bucky finishes the drink, taking great care in making sure it looks damn good. Presentation, people, it's all about the presentation. He doesn't place it on the hand off counter, instead, he slips off the red Christmas apron and takes Steve's drink with him, walking over to the other boy. “A sugar apocalypse for the sweetest boy I won over on a crashed blind date.” Bucky announces.

Steve had been focused and looking down at his phone so he jumps a little at being addressed. Turning around, the blonde's eyes widen and then he smiles.

“In-person delivery, nice.”

Bucky hands the sweet handcrafted masterpiece over. “Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”

The question and its implications has Steve blushing and putting his drink down on the counter to secure the lid on top. He takes a sip. “Good, you didn’t fuck it up.”

“Of course I didn’t! What the hell,” Bucky snorts. “No faith.”

The two of them find a somewhat isolated corner and sit at a table. Bucky feels a little jittery because he had a plan dammit, and now he's been caught off guard. Fidgety hands come up to his man bun and pulls the hair tie off so he can redo the exact style, making sure to get all his wavy brown hair up and out of his face.

“Was gonna text you after my shift. I had told myself to wait three days,” he finds himself explaining for some unknown reason.

“What's so special about three days? That some magical number of not coming across too eager, but not waiting long though as to appear disinterested?”

Bucky blinks, not having expected Steve to call him on his bullshit. When it's laid out like that, he supposes it does sound rather idiotic.“... Maybe.”

“That's stupid,” Steve states and Bucky can't help but laugh because of Steve's straightforward way of saying things. It's refreshing.

“Yeah, sorry, I should have just texted or called you right away.”

“Well, maybe not _right_ away,” Steve jokes before taking another sip on his drink.

“Okay, not right away. So, how are you doin’?”

Steve hums in thought, “Pretty good, just finished up a group project and needed a pick me up. Thought I could use a distraction to go with the shot of caffeine.”

“That’s me, the distraction bearing espresso - as long as you got the cash.”

They talk for nearly an hour (totally longer than he ought to have taken) and when Bucky dons his apron again, Sam grins, “Man, you got it baaaaad.” Bucky doesn't refute the assessment.

* * *

Steve Rogers wouldn't say his life got easier with dating Bucky. He has to juggle more in his schedule and he’s spending too much money at Starbucks (at least he now is earning free drinks thanks to the barista forcing him to get the stupid app).

He’s happier though, visiting Bucky on his breaks when he can, binging on too much Netflix, both of them crowded on a couch staring at a laptop screen and enjoys seeing both the angry text messages ranting about customers and the cute ones stating mushy shit like the last one: **let me come over, ill let u study pinky swear!**

Sometimes he doesn't  know what the fuck Bucky sees in him, though. Bucky’s  gorgeous, fit, possesses a chiseled jaw line, beautiful smile, the kind of eyes that could pull off smouldering looks… Whereas Steve is small, thin and just generally not picked for anything unless brains were on the table. Unfortunately, he often was sought after for group projects and the like because of his hardworking attitude translating into good grades on assignments.

Bucky’s also much more of a free-spirit. He’d have been a hippie in another life, Steve had often thought.

They are laying on Steve's bed, Steve on his stomach, nose buried in a textbook while Bucky is curled around him as much as he can be, arm splayed across Steve's lower back, head pressed against Steve's thin arm, one earbud in, The xx  playing from his phone.

“You could easily get someone more attractive,” Steve says suddenly.

“Huh? So what? I chose you Pikachu,” Bucky responds casually.

“I’m being serious, James.”

“You must be since you’re busting out the birth name and all.”

“My point still stands.”

The brunet tightens his hold on Steve. “The insides are what I'm after.” Bucky hmm’s to himself, choosing his next words carefully. “And anyway, I like what I like, and I like you and you just happen to come with a bony exterior and a shitty personality at times, but I’m still here, jerk.”

Steve swallows hard and just nods, deciding that he won't bring it up again. He may have his own reservations, but the easy simple responses Bucky gives has Steve trying to quiet the concerns. No one likes to have to work overtime to quell someone else’s insecurities.

When Steve finally concedes in his studying, Bucky is gently snoring and drooling, and it honest to God is too cute that he watches him for a few minutes. Yeah, he’s watching his boyfriend sleep.  Probably ranks fairly high on the creeper list, at least a 6 or 7 out of 10, but whatever.

Boyfriend? They hadn’t exactly officially asked each other out. He drops his book to the floor, the _thud_ waking Bucky up with a start.

“Wha?” He stretches, blinking his eyes open, frowning at the abrupt noise.

“Are we boyfriends?” Steve asks, getting right to the point. He slips off the bed and strips down to his boxers - his chosen sleep attire.

Bucky sits up, rubbing his eyes and giving a yawn. “‘course we are, what else would be?”

“Just thought I’d check.” He ignores the way his heart feels a little more _full._

Bucky accepts that and makes to tear off his own clothing, wiggling around on the bed in order to get off skinny jeans. It looks ridiculous, is almost worth pointing out the levels of ludicrousness that people will go to for fashion, but, nah, this time Steve will bite his tongue. Meanwhile, Steve picks up the dropped textbook and sets it in its rightful spot before going to flick the bedroom light off and climbing into bed.

After long periods of studying or reading, Steve prefers to kiss slow and languid. Sliding on top of Bucky, his hands worshiping his _boyfriend’s_ skin, roaming up and down arms and liking how Bucky lets him do whatever he pleases. He takes what he wants, biting and sucking on Bucky’s neck, knowing the other one doesn’t mind marks showing up. Steve delights in seeing the story he can leave behind on that expanse of skin.

They haven’t done _that_ much, mostly they just make out and grind until they get to the point where they’re both too worked up and pull away, chests heaving and hands clasped between them.

Steve buries his hands in Bucky’s long hair, gripping and pulling, enjoying the slight amount of resistance there. Bucky groans in appreciation, and closes his eyes, drinking up all the sensations as he lazily lifts his hips, rubbing his trapped erection against Steve's own.

He scratches at Bucky's scalp lightly, leaning down to slot their faces together as he nuzzles against a stubbled cheek. “You ever bottom before?” Steve asks in a low voice. They haven't really talked about the specifics before, but it’s something that needs to be dealt with eventually because… Steve may be small, but he abhors the idea of that _automatically_ making him the bottom.

“I'm ah--” Steve takes Bucky's earlobe into his mouth and causes the brunet to stammer. “I d-don't really care, 'm flexible. Whatever you want, babe.”

 _Babe_.  Steve normally didn't care for the endearments, but…maybe he doesn't mind so much anymore, maybe he kinda likes it now. The answer, however, excites him and he smiles against Bucky's face. “Not tonight, but soon,” Steve whispers.

* * *

They walk hand in hand. It's snowing gently around them, white frosting the scenery and crunching under their feet. At Bucky's suggestion, they're in the park, checking out the display of Christmas lights. Steve looks adorable all bundled up in his wool beanie, the Where's Waldo scarf and the puffy parka. Bucky starts swinging their arms a bit and Steve snorts, but doesn't make any attempt to stop the motion. “You sap.”

“Fa la la la la, la la la la laaaa,” Bucky replies sing-song and cheery. He may have been burnt out on holiday espresso drinks, but Bucky is generally a fan of Christmas, especially now that he has a smart and awesome boyfriend next to him.

They stop under a lit up mistletoe display and Bucky is grinning like a madman.

“Really?” Steve asks, eyeing the display before shooting the taller boy an incredulous look.

“Yep, come here, babe,” Bucky’s mitten’ed up hands take Steve's face in them, holding softly and leaning down to press his chilly lips to Steve's mouth. They kiss until they're both flush and Steve is smiling back at him.

Bucky kisses him again for good measure. “It's gonna be our first Christmas together,” he says, beaming, when he pulls away again.

“Duh.”

“Don't deny it, Rogers, you love this shit too.”

Steve says nothing, but Bucky knows he's right. Steve isn't as expressive when it comes to feelings - he has no problem being outspoken about various political issues, homework, his opinions, but the touchy-feely stuff? Not so much.

Bucky _knows,_ though.

Steve Rogers has it just as bad as he does.

* * *

Bucky is more than a little impressed with how dedicated Steve is in every aspect of his life. School. Work. Hell, even dating.  Steve works hard to get good grades, to manage a few hours a week tutoring for some extra cash and somehow fits Bucky in too. It's difficult to not want to be a little bit better himself, to maybe want more for himself now too.

Before Steve, Bucky was fine working wherever. Starbucks was at least five steps up from McDonald’s, anyway.  He made enough to the pay the rent, to catch a worthwhile movie once in awhile, to eat more than just ramen and buy the occasional gift for his sisters.

And now, after Steve, well… their future wouldn’t be the best if he was dicking around at Starbucks. After Steve, Bucky kinda feels like he _could_ do more and maybe _wants_ to do more.

* * *

Steve's not the greatest with words, he knows this. He wishes he could tell Bucky all the things he thinks about and feels, but the words get caught in his throat whenever he tries.

So, Steve’s body does the talking, he focuses intently on touching and evoking pleasure. Between the sheets, Steve is reverent and committed to showing just how much he _does_ love Bucky.

That's why Steve hates being rushed. That's why there's no such thing as a quickie for them. He wants to take his time with Bucky, pull him apart, touch and kiss everywhere until his boyfriend is begging and trembling and then be there to put him back together after it all.

So, the first time they have sex, it won't be fucking - it's going to be making love.

Steve’s tongue is actually sore from the amount of time he's spent licking and sliding his tongue into Bucky's hole, gliding around the puckered edges, but the sounds he's rewarded with are exquisite and if the thrashing is any indication, his boyfriend has no complaints.

He changes tactics after a while, Steve widening his mouth to sucks on Bucky’s dick as fingers, slick with lube, tease and encircle a fluttering entrance. This can be awkward and uncomfortable, thus Steve’s pace is slow as he works one finger in and lavishes attention on the cock in his mouth, slurping obscenely.

“Goddamn Steve,” Bucky gasps, hands coming to grip at blonde strands as he takes it all. “ _Fuck_.”

Steve is determined in breaking down the resistance and tightness of his boyfriend's body. When he's inserted another digit, Steve crooks them with purpose and smiles as Bucky predictably shudders around him.  It’s an intimate affair, something Steve hasn’t actually done too often, so he’s careful in all he does and savours every detail - the sounds, the taste, the feel of Bucky tensing his legs or how every so often he pets Steve’s hair appreciatively. For as chatty as Bucky normally is, there’s very few words that leave his mouth now.

It's a good fifteen minutes or so until Steve is satisfied with how stretched and wound up Bucky is. He takes his fingers out, mouth pulling off the brunet’s cock with a _pop_. He wipes his hand off on kleenex before rolling on a condom.

Steve easily fits in between Bucky's spread legs, a hand steadying his own cock as he slides just the tip in, eyes watching Bucky's face for any signs of discomfort. When Bucky gives him a stilted nod and a smile, Steve's hips continue advancing, pushing into sweltering heat and tightness and it’s Steve’s turn to hiss out a an expletive or two.

“God, Buck, you feel amazing,” Steve grits out when he's completely engulfed and Bucky's eyes are bright and wide, connected and staring back at Steve’s face.

Skinny body folded over Bucky, Steve peppers kisses on the boy beneath him. Each thrust is a devotion, Steve whispering sweet things that he normally doesn't say, but the words fall out on their own anyway.

_“Beautiful, James.”_

_“So perfect.”_

_“Yeah, baby.”_

And Bucky sighs, hands trembling as he holds on and grips Steve’s forearms. He closes his eyes at the tender words, head turning away like he can’t handle hearing them.

Steve knows that for all of Bucky's outward bravado and charm, that he has his own insecurities - that he thinks Steve should be with someone more like himself - someone with goals and plans, but Steve also knows that Bucky's been doing some research on programs and schools. He found the information booklets stashed away last week.

The thing is, Steve doesn't need Bucky to get a degree, to be like him in this way. He just needs Bucky to keep on loving him, to keep making lame Netflix and chill jokes or to give him a neck massage after a particularly exhausting day at school - all things Bucky can do working wherever, doing whatever. If Bucky wants more, wants more for _himself_ , Steve is all for that, will do whatever is needed to support the endeavour, but it has to be for the right reasons.

Maybe one day he will be able to articulate that all.

For now though, Steve slides in and out of Bucky's body unhurriedly until he pulls out, guiding his boyfriend onto his hands and knees as one hand clasps onto Bucky’s waist and the other ensures a smooth re-entry into a willing body.

The make love and Steve’s smaller body is exhausted by time they both finish.

Boneless, fingers entwined, they hold each other.

“I love you.”

“Hey… you beat me to it,” Bucky huffs out and Steve can feel the curve of his smile against his neck.


End file.
